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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173701">scream, darling, please</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterspajamas/pseuds/peterspajamas'>peterspajamas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Character Study, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Spooning, Supernatural Season 5, idk where it would be, it's season 5 pre-apocalypse deancas, literally JUST SPOONING, maybe a coda, meditating on the the fact that they love each other, set in season 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterspajamas/pseuds/peterspajamas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Instructions had been clear. </p><p>Very clear. Castiel had not strayed from them for weeks. Months. And now he's prepared to place himself in front of a battering ram for Dean Winchester. Follow orders to the letter. Safeguard to the archangel vessel. </p><p>Or- devotion to Dean Winchester, to look at it in the way that makes him feel like he may melt, strong vessel bedamned. Devotion to Dean doesn't <em>require</em> following orders; devotion to Dean does not have things so set in stone, not as they were at the beginning. For him, for Dean, the things that guide his life are memories. Much less rigid. Maybe Dean is marked by strict rules, but he also has fondness to cling to. Castiel has only ever had demands made of him.</p><p>Castiel had been told to save Dean Winchester, and guard him. He had followed those orders. He <em>had</em>. And now there are softer rules he exists within. Guided by memory.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>truly barely remember writing this. it took me half an hour, give or take? and i was having feelings</p><p>anyway i hope it's something coherent</p><p> </p><p>tumblr is <a href="https://doublestuffedimpala.tumblr.com">@doublestuffedimpala</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Instructions had been clear. </p><p>Very clear. Castiel had not strayed from them for weeks. Months. And now he's prepared to place himself in front of a battering ram for Dean Winchester. Follow orders to the letter. Safeguard to the archangel vessel. </p><p>Or- devotion to Dean Winchester, to look at it in the way that makes him feel like he may melt, strong vessel bedamned. Devotion to Dean doesn't <em>require</em> following orders; devotion to Dean does not have things so set in stone, not as they were at the beginning. For him, for Dean, the things that guide his life are memories. Much less rigid. Maybe Dean is marked by strict rules, but he also has fondness to cling to. Castiel has only ever had demands made of him.</p><p>Castiel had been told to save Dean Winchester, and guard him. He had followed those orders. He <em>had</em>. And now there are softer rules he exists within. Guided by memory.</p><p> </p><p>"What are you thinking about?" the subject of his thoughts whispers, whispers softly, head tipping up to stare at Castiel's eyes. "Cas?" </p><p> </p><p>"Nothing," he murmurs. <em>Cas</em>. A nickname. Castiel has had many things that purportedly belonged to him, over the centuries. A nickname isn't something easily taken away, though. He'll always have it. (He likes the idea of that.) With one hand, he slowly strokes his hand through Dean's hair. </p><p> </p><p>"Is it something dirty?" He turns his cocky smile, flashing, onto Castiel. </p><p> </p><p>"No." And with a breath, Castiel kisses his forehead, looking away and out the window. He squints at the galaxy. He remembers many of those stars. There are some he's forgotten, and while he is sure he can ask one of his brothers or sisters, it doesn't feel right. Months ago, that would not have been his instinct. Months are mere seconds to beings like him. What does this mean? Does this mean.... It took Dean Winchester seconds to destroy that instinct. Level it, like humans levelled old buildings and cities they fought wars over. Castiel doesn't want his siblings peering into their life. </p><p> </p><p>"Then what is it?" He pokes Castiel's chest, humming. "You're a thrilling bed partner, man. This pillow talk, you have a knack for it." </p><p> </p><p>Castiel wraps his hand around the fingers that are now aimlessly ghosting over his chest, stroking the muscles of the vessel he is in. Dean glares at him. "I am thinking about you," he says softly, laying his head next to Dean's. They are fit together- the way humans are meant to be? Cas is anything but human, he wouldn't know. He enjoys the superficial warmth of Dean's back on his chest, though. And the knowledge that the target of his devotion is right <em>here</em>. He enjoys how it feels safe. "I am thinking about how you gave me a nickname." </p><p> </p><p>Dean pauses. Castiel can see the gears turning in his head, but it's like he spoke in Enochian for all Dean seems to understand him. "What, when I call you <em>buddy</em>? Is this about that time I called you lovebug? You know that was a joke, right?"</p><p> </p><p>Castiel knows. He had seen the tired smile that flickered on Sam's face because of it, and the jokes the two of them trotted out in response, seemingly for his amusement. "No one has ever called me <em>Cas</em>. Or anything derived from my name in that way. Dean," he says, pausing, "Do you think maybe... these past few weeks, have you loved me too strongly?" </p><p> </p><p>A sound chuckle hums in the ribcage he knows like his vessel's own bones, against his front. A lock of Dean's hair tickles him. Castiel has to remind himself, <em>do not hold too tight</em>, or he will break. If Castiel holds him like he wants to, if he gathers Dean in his arms and squeezes, Dean would be dust. "No, I don't think there's too much <em>strong loving </em>going on here." Castiel smooths his hand down Dean's chest. </p><p> </p><p>"That isn't what I meant," he replies plainly. Dean swallows. The playfulness- eyebrow waggle, displays of emotion- fade. </p><p> </p><p>"I think that whatever's happening, the apocalypse is coming. So there's not <em>too much</em>. I mean... if I die. You die. Then no one is going to think that we didn't love each other enough." He shrugs stiffly, turning around. Castiel thinks, <em>if you died it wouldn't be archangels starting the apocalypse, </em>and <em>his eyes are green like the Earth, when I began to think it was beautiful </em>and he thinks that instructions coming from above do not account for this tangled pulling in his heart. </p><p> </p><p>"I love you very much, then," Cas says earnestly, squeezing tightly. In front of him, a noise chokes from out of Dean's mouth, and he doesn't assign an emotion to it because it's scary enough, he thinks, that Dean has this hold on him. It does not bode well for him to know that he's done this. Cas has fallen in a grand fashion. Begun to love in a grand fashion. Tears are not grand in that way. Dean crying over loneliness, crying silently as he watches his brother destroy himself... </p><p> </p><p>It is not something angels spectate. Not the way angels often watch as great things go down. Castiel is so different. (it's been seconds since this started; he has changed irrevocably) He knows that tears are worth watching, but only if you know how to heal them. One of his arms tightens around Dean's midsection and he breathes in the apple scent of his hair. Lightly, he kisses the nape of Dean's neck. "I love you," he whispers again.</p><p> </p><p>The sounds of sadness die off, leaving ringing silence. "I love you too," Dean says through a dry mouth. He pauses. "Goodnight," he whispers out, then. Castiel will have a good night; he enjoys keeping watch as Dean sleeps, in a way he never did in the garrison. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>part 2!! the next day, just an interlude from dean's POV. idk man they are perfect for each other in a certain way. it makes me so happy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Graves stand in uniform lines along the shade of apple trees. They're blooming, the trees. Dean squints at them, the way the sun is filtering through. Out in the open, one hand hovering above a stone white gravestone, the warmth beats into him. </p><p> </p><p>"Do you not need to burn the body?" Cas asks. He reaches out, hand brushing on Dean's arm. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, let a guy take in the fresh air for once, alright?" Dean snorts. But he moves along anyway, grimacing at the cracked stone a ways away. "C'mere." </p><p> </p><p>Cas gets tugged along with him- Dean has a tendency to do that, tug people along. His bad habit. "It's this one?" Cas asks, looking closely at the ground. </p><p> </p><p>"Huh? Oh, yeah. One second, I'll get started digging, you can just..." He falters. "Cas? What the hell are you doing?" Cas looks back at him. Dean staggers, drifting closer to his angel. His eyes are extra blue today, brighter than the sun. Oh God. "Cas?" he repeats, whispers.</p><p> </p><p>"I did it," Cas replies, serious, gently leaning in to wipe a bit of dirt off of Dean's forehead. "Is that acceptable?" he asks, staring into Dean's eyes. Dean wants to laugh. It feels pretty ridiculous, all this. But part of him also wants to cry. Or cradle Cas in his arms, he wants to smother him in a long kiss, he wants to <em>hold </em>Cas. </p><p> </p><p>"Perfectly acceptable, you great big idiot." Dean drives the toe of one boot into the ground, marking the old earth. They didn't even have to dig. Dean hates the fucking digging. He gets dirty, covered in sweat, which makes even more dirt stick to him. He bites his bottom lip, eventually turning away from the grass- the uniform rows of graves. "What are we going to do with the rest of the day? Should we research another case?" </p><p> </p><p>"I would be pleased with anything you wanted to do." </p><p> </p><p>"Aww, you really mean it?" Dean shoots him a dirty smile. Cas doesn't amend his statement- he meets Dean's eyes and stares at him until he starts to blush. "Stop looking at me like that," he mutters, setting off for the parking lot. </p><p> </p><p>"Isn't it love? Am I not doing it correctly?" Cas asks. </p><p><br/>
Dean thinks of all the times Sam has called them a whirlwind romance. He thinks of the dates (date, singular) they've been on. He thinks of last night, he thinks of curling into Cas's side,  he thinks of watching the clock tick down meaningless numbers until it's time for them to "wake up" again, when all they've done is touch each other. Dean's nights are mostly sleepless anyway. He thinks of falling into Cas's lap, kissing him like that, he thinks of how he still gets kinda breathless every time he thinks of his "angel crush." </p><p> </p><p>Dean reaches out, catching Cas's hand in his own. Leans in, lips at his neck. "You're doing great," he murmurs. One of Cas's hands trail down his chest and Dean instinctively leans closer. At the last minute, though, he tucks his head into Cas's shoulder, gripping hard. "I- I feel some type of way about you, you know?" </p><p> </p><p>Cas doesn't reply, but God do they stand there for a long time. This is, in a way, what Dean's been wanting his whole life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>again, comments are dearly appreciated! but if you don't have the time or anything to say, just a kudos would be awesome too hahha</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comment to make my day! if it made you feel soft just send a bunch of hearts! and really, every comment i see literally makes me so happy! if you don't have the time/nothing to say, i hope you have a good day too &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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